Songs
Godiva (Monodrama for Mezzo Soprano and Piano on a Libretto by Caitlin Vincent)
by Juliana Hall
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Text
Godiva (Monodrama for Mezzo Soprano and Piano on a Libretto by Caitlin Vincent)
English source:
Caitlin Vincent
Men have a talent for invention.
With a simple stroke of a quill,
they redact, revise, mischaracterize.
I have lived a thousand years
in the written thoughts of men.
A thousand years.
Not as flesh but as myth.
_[ruefully]_
No one remembers the ‘why.’
The ‘how.’
Even the ‘who.’
All they recall:
Lady Godiva naked on a horse.
Lady Godiva naked. . . and chocolate.
_[with frustration]_
Is it worse to be forgotten than to be misremembered?
I am tired of the stories.
How they linger on my hair, my sex, my skin.
I am Godiva.
Not a victim or a fool.
Or a vessel for men’s desire.
Just a woman who made a choice.
...
My husband was greedy.
Always demanding more tax.
Even when the people would starve.
I pleaded.
Persisted.
Until he finally broke.
“I will lower the tax,
when _you_ ride naked through the town.”
He thought to weaken my resolve.
As if he didn’t know me at all.
But I stripped off my robe.
Unbound my hair.
Veiled my body in sunlight.
And rode my horse through the square.
I reveled in my gown of sun.
Then turned for home.
...
Forget the stories you’ve read.
The legend you’ve heard.
Remember _this_ Godiva.
Not the myth... but me.
The text GODIVA is used by permission of the author, Caitlin Vincent, copyright © 2019
With a simple stroke of a quill,
they redact, revise, mischaracterize.
I have lived a thousand years
in the written thoughts of men.
A thousand years.
Not as flesh but as myth.
_[ruefully]_
No one remembers the ‘why.’
The ‘how.’
Even the ‘who.’
All they recall:
Lady Godiva naked on a horse.
Lady Godiva naked. . . and chocolate.
_[with frustration]_
Is it worse to be forgotten than to be misremembered?
I am tired of the stories.
How they linger on my hair, my sex, my skin.
I am Godiva.
Not a victim or a fool.
Or a vessel for men’s desire.
Just a woman who made a choice.
...
My husband was greedy.
Always demanding more tax.
Even when the people would starve.
I pleaded.
Persisted.
Until he finally broke.
“I will lower the tax,
when _you_ ride naked through the town.”
He thought to weaken my resolve.
As if he didn’t know me at all.
But I stripped off my robe.
Unbound my hair.
Veiled my body in sunlight.
And rode my horse through the square.
I reveled in my gown of sun.
Then turned for home.
...
Forget the stories you’ve read.
The legend you’ve heard.
Remember _this_ Godiva.
Not the myth... but me.
The text GODIVA is used by permission of the author, Caitlin Vincent, copyright © 2019
Composer
Juliana Hall
Juliana Hall is an American composer of art songs and vocal chamber music. Read more here.